


I ain't sorry

by Cutebutpsycho



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutebutpsycho/pseuds/Cutebutpsycho
Summary: Tumblr fic, prompted by Quatro:I said “I HAVE AN IDEA!”Sally and Molly have a night out blowing off steam.





	I ain't sorry

The club was too loud, too bustling and filled with too many people dressed in knock-off fashion escaping the daily woes of chores, bills and other annoyances through the throbbing music. 

Molly twirled around as she sang, “I ain’t sorry, I ain’t sorry,” along with Beyonce. she was trying to soothe her woes after breaking up with Tom. Like Beyonce, she had her middle fingers up as she swayed to the beat. She wasn’t sorry that the engagement ended – deep down she knew that it wasn’t good idea when the ring ended up on her finger. 

Sally grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, “SO I SAID I HAVE AN IDEA!” she yelled into Molly’s ear. 

“No,” Molly said, “We are not egging his car. You suggested that already.”

“Oh no,” Sally said, a wicked smile on her face. “I have a better idea.”

Twenty minutes later, they both were standing in front of a bridge. Bandanas covered their faces and Sally was shaking a can of spray paint. 

“Isn’t this illegal?” Molly asked.

“Do you really care?” Sally replied. “I’m drunk, you’re drunk, we are angry and this is gonna be fun. Besides, I’ll clean it up later and report it. I’m a good girl after all.”

Molly chuckled darkly. Sally must have heard about Sherlock’s relapse, on top of the engagement ending. Only a good friend would know how badly she needed to blow off some steam in a tiny, dangerous way. 

“Give me the can,” she said, holding out her hand. The can felt cool to the touch, slightly heavy in her palm and a shiver of excitement slithered up her spine as she shook it and began spraying. 

Sally kept lookout, and also admired her work. With a few quick strokes, Molly finished. Standing back, she admired her design – a tiny, stylized cat, extending the middle finger with an angry sneer.  

“Feel better?” Sally asked, as they walked away. 

Molly tossed the spray can into a trash bin. “A little bit.”


End file.
